Postcard From Memory Lane
by Isabelle Adamowitz
Summary: AU. Marauder- and pre-HP era. Snape and Lupin live in muggle London. One has been forced to go through the non-magical school system despite his magical powers. The other has never encountered anything magical, as far as he knows... Can they connect? Can they learn from eachother?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer : I do not own any of the characters featured in this text of fan-fiction. They are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling.

 _A/N: I've decided to rework this. Somehow, trawling through various fics made me nostalgic about the atmosphere of these pieces. I figured I'd revisit them. This fic, originally titled "Facing not really understanding" originally ended at chapter 3, both in my manuscript from 2007 and in the uploaded version from... 2016... I think. So here is the rewrite and I will be adding new chapters to this in due time. I hope you enjoy it._

 **Part I**

London, 1975-

The paint on the door of the Victorian house was peeling off. It had been white at some previous stage, then cream-coloured and it was now steadily going an ugly shade of brownish yellow due to the flaking varnish that still covered it in most places. There were tired-looking light pink geraniums in the window box and a straggly rosebush was obstinately growing out of the patch of moist yet poor soil in front of the bay window. The Lupins had lived there for as long as anyone could recall. They weren't originally from London, but no one ever could remember where they had resided prior to this, and no one ever bothered asking.

Mr. and Mrs. Lupin ha always been very outgoing and active people in the neighbourhood, and so it surprised people to learn that their child was so shy. Remus was hardly ever to be seen outside, except on his way to and from school or the corner shop. This had changed, however, when aged eleven he had met three boys who would become his best mates. He would play football in the street with them or perhaps enjoy a game of chess on the front step in the sun when only one of his friends could come over.

Remus Lupin knew that he was a bit strange. He had been comfortable with that all his childhood. Until now. His friends had known him for four years now and were completely used to his ways, but he couldn't help wondering if this wasn't the result of plain indifference to them. He liked to watch people. He needed a group that he could be a part of: he was with them, but always one step to the side. He fancied himself as having a bit of a talent for reading people when they thought they weren't being watched. Little did he know that he was to be the object of someone's intense scrutiny himself.

London, 1976 -

'There he is', Remus thought. 'I wonder what he's doing'. Remus was standing in the hallway at school, trying to follow the actions of a strange boy. There was something strangely unfamiliar about him, though they must have been going to the same school for the last five years and although Remus was certain that this boy wasn't a new student, he couldn't recall ever speaking to him.

Presently the boy was bending down as if to tie his shoelace. In itself this wasn't strange, but he had been hunched over in this way for the past ten minutes, or so it seemed to Remus. In fact, at first Remus had been tempted to go over and ask if he was alright, until he caught sight of the distinctive profile. Remus had stopped still and retreated a few steps upon seeing the chin-length black hair, the hooked nose and the unhealthy skinniness that seemed to be exaggerated by the dark red uniform. Something about him made want Remus recoil instinctively.

After a while, the boy stood up straight and stared at the wall before brushing a sleeve over his face and walking off. He did not acknowledge Remus, who had the feeling that this was quite intentional and perhaps done to save face.

Remus looked at the spot where the boy had been contemplating the floor: there was a small collection of drops of blood. He went closer bent down and gingerly dragged a finger straight across the speckled floor where the blood had fallen.

"I thought you were watching me."

Remus jumped at the sound of an unknown voice. He did, however, guess whom it belonged to. He stood and turned his head. As if in a nightmare, he found his body didn't feeling numb and he couldn't turn it around properly to face the boy who must have doubled back while he was inspecting the blood on the floor. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the boy's angry face.

"Gloating, are you?" he said.

"Beg pardon?" Remus replied finally managing to turn around and face the boy.

"Don't be daft. You were there, like the rest of the school."

The boy grinned defiantly, revealing two missing teeth.

"What! Is that why you're bleeding? What are you doing here? You've got to get to a doctor... er... dentist!" Remus blurted out.

The boy frowned. He tapped his finger to place in his gums where his teeth were missing behind his upper lip, winced and ran his tongue between his teeth and his lip. He smiled.

"Jesus!"Remus exclaimed shocked.

The teeth were back, as if they had never been gone.

"Exactly." The boy said sarcastically.

"You go tell your daft mates that I can work miracles. Go tell them that. Tell them I'm Jesus. Fat lot of good that'll do us both." he snorted.

Remus blinked. The boy turned and left. Remus rubbed his eyes. Was this all some sort of trick? He rubbed his bloody forefinger together with his thumb. His head was starting to throb, signalling an oncoming migraine. He shook himself, shuddering.

'Real blood' he concluded.

In the way home he dropped by the chemist's to buy some pain medication. He seemed to use up his aspirin extremely quickly. So much so that the had started buying it with his own money for fear that his parents might think he had a serious illness. Truth be told, he didn't understand it himself. Every month, around the full moon he would feel ill. Having taken a double dose of aspirin he would go to bed early on those nights. This was one of them.

The next morning he had forgotten about it all.

London, 1985-

Remus sat in a pub called "the Horse and Hound". He had rented a flat in the building above it and had taken to popping down for a beer from time to time. This part of town was not the cleanest, but it was unremarkable enough to be relatively safe. Families lived here and the mood on the streets was generally cordial. Remus was having a chat with the man on the barstool next to his, when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Yes?" he turned.

In front of him stood a man his age; black haired, hook-nosed and gaunt, with bad posture. Remus couldn't remember ever setting eyes on the fellow.

"Severus Snape" said the man, extending a hand. Remus took it, somewhat confused. As they broke the handshake, Remus noticed a stickiness on his left index: blood.

"That's my blood" said Snape with a scowl.

"Are you hurt?" asked Remus bemused.

"Come outside. I have to settle something with you."

"Look, let me finish my pint." Remus said, rather hoping that the man would offer to wait for him outside and eventually leave when he didn't show up.

"No, get up. Now" Snape said replied softly and slightly menacingly.

"Alright, look mate, if you want…"

"I am not your "mate". I do not want a drink" Snape stated.

He turned and headed for the door. Remus was about to ignore the strange man, but suddenly his finger, hand and arm began to feel strangely dry. The dryness became intense pain and he knew that something had just been triggered by this fellow. He slammed the money for the pint on the counter, managed to hiss an apology through pain-clenched teeth to his drinking-mate and followed Snape's footsteps to the door. To Remus' utter bewilderment, he wasn't waiting outside. The next thing he noticed brought him close to total panic. His arm and hand were sweating blood. In fact, it seemed as though the dryness he had felt earlier was the feeling of his blood dripping out of his body. He examined his arm and found that the carmine liquid was seeping out of his pores and that the only part of his hand that was not bleeding was the place where he had felt the stranger's blood. He shook his arm.

A curious thing happened: the drops, which should have dispersed randomly, seemed to have gone to the left. He shook his arm again. An arrow-shaped outline of blood was becoming visible. Remus stepped to the left, in the direction of the arrow. It faded only to reappear three metres ahead. There were no passers-by, no cars, and now that he came to think of it, no birdsong. Remus followed the arrow further. As the process repeated itself, the arrow grew fainter, as did the pain in his arm. Remus followed this strange path to an alley behind an Chinese restaurant. He half-expected to find Snape there and was slightly disappointed at finding no one. He wanted to shout at the man whom he held responsible for this uncanny and gratuitous interruption of what would otherwise have been a perfectly enjoyable evening.

Remus, exhaution creeping over him, followed his nose toward the open kitchen door and glanced in. The cooks were all working animatedly, chopping at superhuman speed, or so it seemed, wiping their brows over huge woks on gas stoves and rushing about with colored dishes laden with fragrant food.

Remus went around the building and into the restaurant. A waiter came up to him immediately.

"We have been expecting you." the waiter said and motioned for Remus to follow.

He found the man he was following sitting at a table. As soon as Remus saw Snape's face, he felt an odd mix of rage and utter exhaustion, as if he had reached a long-sought destination. The dining room was full, with all tables occupied, which prevented Remus from shouting. Instead he seated himself on the chair opposite Snape and said:

"What is the meaning of this?"

"My point exactly." Snape answered.

He seized Remus' hand before the latter could pull it back and held the once again bloody finger up in front of his eyes.

"Didn't your mother tell you not to touch certain things that might be dangerous? Like other people's blood?" Snape curtly said.

Remus had the feeling that Snape was used to telling children off, though he did not look old or worried enough to have his own.

"Sorry? I shook your hand. How was I supposed to know that there was blood on it?" Remus spluttered indignantly. "And WHAT was that trick with MY blood? My arm? How did you do that?"

Snape grinned and revealed two missing teeth.

"Exaclty the same way I did this."

He closed his lips, opened them again and Remus saw a normal, if somewhat yellowish smile. He also noted that there was an almost canine quality to the elongated, sharp-looking teeth. And suddenly he recognized the boy from school he had forgotten.

"Good." Snape said, as if reading Remus' thoughts. And then he vanished.


	2. Chapter 2

_(Original A/N from "Facing not really understanging" : Something I unearthed from 2007. I originally wrote the three parts of this short fic by hand and never got around to typing them up. If I remember correctly I wrote these on holiday on Jersey, in the St-Brelade area. I think that the light there, which seems to change innumerable times a day when the wind blows made me want to take a mental trip to Marauder-era Britain. Feelin' retro!_

 **Part II**

 **London, 1969**

A slanting ray of sunlight brought life to the brick wall. The usually unnoticed insects - microscopic red beetles, ants, sliverfish - suddenly found themselves under a golden spotlight. Severus stared at this spectacle of insignifficant traffic, for nothing else was interesting enough to hold his attention. It was Sunday evening and his parents had sent him out to play after tea. It was the end of a chilly October afternoon and the sky was paling to a crisp shade of apricot. Severus' breath was visible, though barely a whisp, surrounding his face with a translucent halo.

He concentrated on the network of crawling life before him. Soon, first the puny red insects, then the ants and all the rest started crawling in a looping circuit. They seemed to be forming a word in cursive script. "Severus". The boy looked satisfied. He had always known that he was more like his mother than his father, and so it came as no surprise that he could do magic just as she could. He had _wanted_ it to be so. His mother had repeated the same assessment of his character all thoughout his childhood, whether to his teachers or relatives:

"He's such a strong-willed child. He knows exactly what he wants, this one."

Most of the time it was an apology or at least an explanation for her son's odd behaviour and refusal to cooperate at school or family gatherings, but on certain occasions, Severus thought he had seen a glimmer of pride in her eye and heard a note of affection in the words as she spoke them.

His father had adored him when he was small, of that he was certain. On learning that his first-born was a boy, Tobias Snape has been extatic. He had been certain that he needn't be afraid for the family line and, working-class though they were, he could walk with pride with this knowledge. Only when, very early on, Severus had shown no inclinations towards family traditions such as sports and a general love for physical labour had Tobias started to suspect his son of having inherited what he called "witch oil". His distrust and disdain for his only child had begun to take shape and grow from then on.

Now, aged 9 years, Severus was already starting to lose the carefree joy that all children experience over little things. He was beginning to realise that he was not as well cared for as most of his friends. He became aware of the subtle things that set him apart and that had nothing to do with his strength of will or his magical abilities. In short, he learned to recognise that his family was poor and dysfunctional.

Often he would come home from school, unlock the front door with the key that his mother hung around his neck on a leather shoelace every morning (though recently the lock had given way if he just willed it to), find a can of baked beans next to a saucepan on the cooker and a packet of toast on the table. He knew that this meant that his mother was off volunteering for the church or doing a few hours of cleaning: a quick way to make ends meet when Tobias went on strike.

Severus resented his mother's going to help other people when he would have liked to have her to himself, spend time with her and perhaps help her with the cooking or baking and listen to her stories about when she was his age. Eileen Snape had only begun to tell her son about the wizarding world when it became clear that he was not a squib. She and Tobias had agreed to raise him as a muggle, a prospect that later horrified him, to spare him the difficulties of being and under-gifted halfblood wizard, should it be the case. It most certainly was not.

Still focused on the insects, Severus soon relaxed his concentration and the insects returned to their haphazard paths at once as if nothing had ever happened. He went into the house and gingerly stepped into the sitting-room. There he found his mum and dad cozily sitting next to eachother holding hands. Severus felt a little uneasy each time he saw them like this, but he knew it to be far better than the shouting and throwing of objects that was quite frequent in the Snape household.

One day he had asked his mother if she loved his father. She had hesitated before answering:

"I do. Sometimess I think I love him too much."

"More than me?" Severus had asked once.

"Child!" she had exclaimed, sweeping him into her arms, kissing the top of his head. It was only years later that he remembered that this was no direct answer. Presently he took a step towards his parents.

"Mum?" he asked.

"Yes Pet?"

"I just made the insects on the wall outside crawl into a pattern. Just by thinking it.", Severus said with pride.

Tobias Snape glowered. The peaceful mood of the evening was waning, it seemed. Eileen, looking at her husband, said:

"Did they go back to normal when you were finished with them?"

"Yes, Mum."

"Well, then there's not harm in it then I suppose. Well done Pet."

"Can I show you how I did it tomorrow then?" Severus asked, his eyes sparkling.

"If we have time." Eileen answered, making a point of showing Tobias through her body-language that there would be no time. Severus sensed that there were things being said between his parents, but he couldn't pick up on their exact meaning. If only he could read minds!

"Would you be a dear and put the kettle on?" She asked.

Severus, who always jumped at an occasion to please his mum ran off eagerly to accomplish his mission, eager for more praise.

"Eileen!" Tobias hissed.

"Oh what do you want me to do about it? I did the same sort of thing when I was a child, as would you have done if..."

"IF? There is no _if_." Tobias spat.

"It's normal for Merlin's sake!" Eileen went on, her sallow face turning a nasty, animated shade of tan. "Think of it as a different culture."

"I don't like foreign things or foreign people." Tobias said scathingly.

"I know that, but do understand that he _will_ fit in, come time."

"Like you do?" Tobias asked, his eyebrows raised archly.

"Mum! The kettle's boiling!" came Severus' voice from the kitchen. Eileen sent a resentful look towards her husband before rushing off. Did he not realise how much effort it took her to volunteer for an organisation of a religion that she didn't believe in and clean without magic? She was disappointed that he didn't see how much she sacrificed every day for his sake.

"Coming Pet!"

Tobias heard the kitchen door slam and started picturing exactly how strange, and how much stranger, his son was bound to become and felt a surge of anger rise in him. 'That woman has a nerve. If she has magic, as I know she does, she must be able to put some kind of limit on the boy's powers. She'd only be doing the right thing, the bloody witch.' Tobias was going to have a talk with his wife later in bed. She wouldn't resist him there. He would remind her that it was him that she loved best, not that strange and disappointing child of theirs.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part III**

London, 1985

Severus Snape apparated in his flat in Hackney, leaving Remus Lupin to make sense of things for himself at the Chinese restausant in Soho.

Back at school, nine years ago, finally, miraculously, Lupin had noticed him. He had even been worried upon seeing Severus' missing teeth. This was not how they should have had their first exchange of words. Severus had been so ashamed of being discovered by this boy he admired that his instant reaction had been anger. And he had wanted to impress Remus Lupin while he was at it. Only when he got home that evening had he calmed down. When Eileen had seen her son's still bloodstained face she had felt a pang of sadness. She had then sat him down at the kitchen table and made him a cup of tea. She knew that this was the best way to do what she could to make things better.

"Oh Pet, what happened this time?" she had asked, trying her hardest not to sound patronising.

"Nothing Mum." Severus had glowered. "If I could just use ma-" he said and his mother interrupted him:

"No! On no account must you use your powers! Try to fight back using their weapons."

"What? My height and muscle?" Severus had said. "I'm not like Da."

Eileen had made a gesture as if to stroke her son's hair. Stopping in mid-motion she had pulled back. Her son was 16 years old. It was too late for that kind of comforting.

"Mum, you said I should play to my strengths..." Severus had said tentatively.

"Enough! There are rules about living in the muggle world as a wizard and that is that!" Eileen had shouted. Her mood had a tendency to shift very suddenly in those days.

Severus had left the kitchen with his cup of tea and withdrawn to the safety of his room. Taking out his homework, his hand had stopped as he caught sight of his dictionnary, whose thickness reminded him of yet another book.

"I'm Jesus..." he had said to himself, recalling his earlier words, smacking his forehead and groaning. He had got up and stood in front of the window. Time for some magical experimenting. He had then concentrated his thoughts on Remus Lupin: in his mind he had drawn out the boy's face, placed his voice, remembered his posture and his gait. Holding all of these in focus he the had brought himself into the picture next to him and then dismantled his own image, piece by piece. By the time he was done the sun had set and it was time for supper. In the following weeks it had taken so much out of him to daily make Lupin forget all about his very existance during their last two years at school. By the end he had been so good at it that he could stand right behind Lupin, practically touching him, and breathe in his smell without him noticing.

Other pupils, who were still very much aware of Severus Snape would sometimes ask Lupin about his "shadow". Of course, Lupin never understood. After graduation Severus had wanted to disappear from Lupin's surroundings. And did just that. It was only several years later, having recognised him in a bookshop that he had followed him home, to see whether his non-verbal, experimental spell had endured. It had.

A pang of something, nostalgia perhaps, had seized Severus' gut upon seeing Lupin again on that autumn evening in the bookshop. All the efforts he had made to keep Lupin's memory clean of himself had been meant to allow for a better "first meeting" between them and, he hoped, some kind of friendship. But until that day he hadn't been able to bring himself to breal the spell and reveal himself to Lupin. Instead, following him around just like in school had grown into a habit and he had become a bit of a stalker.

The reasons for this were complexe and Snape was a little ashamed of them. To him, back in their teenage years, Lupin had always seemed like the ideal boy. The kind of person his father would have liked for a son. As a boy he had longed to befriend the other boy, in the hopes that at least some of Lupin's normality would rub off on him.

Well informed by now of Lupin's habits and fondness of the Horse and Hound, Snape had chosen that evening to make his move. There Lupin was, having by some happy coincidence reappeared in his life. But how to introduce himself? 'Hi, you might not remember me, but we went to the same school...'. No, he had spent years at school making sure that Lupin wouldn't. He had to go back to Lupin's first (as far as he knew) memory of him, where the spell was the weakest. There was another reason: the mind has memory, and so does the body. Lupin's hand would remember his blood.

Sitting in his flat, mulling their earlier meeting over, Severus winced. 'Shit', he thought. He had felt Remus Lupin remember him, had seen it, and what had he done? Fled, that's what. Last minute stagefright.

"I'm an arse." he said aloud, holding his head in his hands. Nine years later and he was still as awkward as before...


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Now's the time to jump into the unknown... Thank you for reading. Please take the time to review whether you liked it, hated it or you're just plain confused._

 **PART IV**

London, 1985-

Remus was left sitting at the table at "Chen's". He looked around, bewildered, though he couldn't tell whether he was more shocked by Snape's sudden disappearance or the fact that he seemed to the be only person aware of it. He beckoned to the waiter who came over, smiling graciously.

"Excuse me, this will sound odd, but how many people did you see at this table just a minute ago?" Remus asked, his voice faint.

"Before or after you sat down, Sir?" the waiter asked back, seeming to take the question very seriously.

"Thanks. Forget it." Remus mumbled, feeling idiotic. The man clearly hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary if he could ask him that with such a composed expression. The again, his very distinct Hong-Kong English seemed very prim and proper to Remus, who wondered to what extent this composure might be a cultural illusion.

"Perhaps you would like some refreshments, Sir?" the waiter offered.

"No... thank you. I er, I should head off." Remus said. And then, seeing the corner of the waiter's mouth give the slightest twitch of irritation he added "I... I don't think she'll be coming actually..." he offered, trying to come up with a plausible explanation for the fact that he had, as far as the waiter was concerned, apparently come in to the restaurant, sat down, stared at the empty seat across from him, mouthed a few words and decided to leave within ten minutes or so.

'He must think I'm mad' Remus thought to himself.

"She?" The waiter said, amused. "I understand, Sir. Come again soon." he added with a shallow tilt of his head, motioning towards the door.

On the way out, Remus noticed a couple sitting by the window, which was framed by heavy and dark silk brocade curtains. The man's attention was completely focused on trying to hold onto a saucily-slick piece of meat between his two chopsticks. The woman, however, who was more or less his mother's age, looked him straight in the eye and brought her finger to the side of her nose. Remus, nodded to her, not having the faintest idea of what she meant by the gesture, opened the door and went out, but he could still see her gaze through the front window and caught her winking at him. It struck him that her appearance was rather strange. She had been wearing an odd combination of patterns, and the mound of brown curls piled onto her hear resembled an 18th century powdered wig, except for the colour... Then again, he was in Soho... She might just have been an opera singer or performer of some sort out for a meal before a late performance.

Pushing his thoughts about the woman's strange behaviour aside, Remus felt memories flooding in.

'Severus Snape.' he mouthed to himself as he walked back to his flat. As he repeated the name over and over he felt a fogginess unfold in his mind. Through a haze he saw the missing teeth and the... miracle... the illusion... he didn't know what to call it, that Snape had performed when they were in school. For the life of him he couldn't fathom why he hadn't been traumatised by it, not to mention how on earth he could possibly have forgotten it. And for that matter, how he could have spent two more years at school without ever seeing hair nor hide of the other boy? He was starting to feel a migraine building up in this already overworked head. There was nothing to do but to go home. Come to think of it though, hadn't he felt and done exactly the same all those years ago after witnessing Snape's magical dental work? Yes... maybe that was why he had forgotten... though unconvinced, Remus suddenly felt slightly less unsettled.

'There must surely be a rational explanation for all of this...' he thought.

The next day Remus decided to pay a visit to his parents after work. His job at the news stand was originally meant to be a temporary source of income, but Remus had found over time that as a bachelor with inexpensive taste, he could afford to work there. The main attraction of the job was that he could constantly be around people without having to get too involved or even get too near them physically. People would tell him all the neighbourhood gossip, complain about the weather, their spouses, children, relatives, and whatever else they could think of and Remus would listen, ask questions and make mental bets with himself that he could guess exactly what Mrs. So-and-so would think about Miss Such-and-such's new haircut and M. What's-his-name's secretary's visibly growing baby bump. His friends, James, Peter and Sirius - whose parents clearly had meant for him to suffer all manner of puns when choosing such an outlandish name for their son - would drop by occasionally during a lunch hour for a newspaper and a chat. He was rather hoping that one of them would choose this day to visit in hopes of asking them about Severus Snape. As chance would have it, it wasn't one of his friends, but a former teacher who dropped by.

"Gooday Remus, a copy of the Guardian please." said Miss McGonagall, his English teacher. He couldn't believe his luck.

"There you are." Remus answered, handing her the newspaper. "Miss?" he sarted.

"Miss McGonagall." she corrected "Honestly, you aren't in class any more. You sound just like my current students. Now, what is it you would like to know?" she added with a forced smile. Remus thought that perhaps she felt a little sheepish for berating him for behaving as if he were still at school when she herself had just corrected him in a tone that suggested that she did in fact still think of him as her pupil.

"I was wondering... do you by any chance remember a boy from my year? Severus Snape. Black hair, sallow skin..." Remus asked, trying to make his question sound as casual as possible. Remus noted that as she made to answer, Miss McGonagall's features seemed to tense ever so slightly.

"I do." She said, pausing as if unsure of how to continue. "He was in the classroom two doors down from yours, wasn't he?" she said.

"Right." Remus answered. After a slightly awkward pause. "Actually, I was asking because I met him by chance the other day and it took me a while to place him." he said, knowing that now, just like back in school, Miss McGonagall was famous for being able to detect lies. She eyed him with... was it worry fleeting across her gaze... said "I'm surprised Remus. I would have thought that given your friendship with Sirius and James you would have remembered Severus Snape better. After all, they did get into fights regularly..." she glanced at the small watch-pendant hanging on a chain around he neck "Good heavens! I must be off. Pleasure speaking with you Remus."

"Goodbye Miss." he said.

"Miss McGonagall!" she shouted over her shoulder with a small wave.

'Well, maybe I'll just have to pay James a call...' Remus thought.

After closing up Remus made his way to his parents' house on foot. The air was still very warm at this hour. When he arrived, his mother insisted on giving him a peck on the cheek and his father clapped him on the shoulder as they made their way to the table for a light supper. After the meal, Remus went to his old bedroom while his mother and father did the washing up, a task that had been his during his teenage years, and which he was now exempted from, being an occasional visitor.

The carpet on the stairs up to the top floor still had the same smell as it did when he had live in this house and the door to his bedroom still had a tendency to jamb when the weather was warm and the wood expanded due to the heat that would build up under the roof. Remus remembered suffocating summer nights lying awake, his window wide open, the moon shining in, waiting for the temperature to become bearable enough to finally find sleep. It wasn't quite that time of year at present, but the warm stuffiness that met him when he entered reminded him of summer days past.

He made his way to the bookshelf and pulled out a photo album which documented much of his childhood. His mother had religiously filled it with pictures of her only son on various occasions. He leafed through it, pausing from time to time to smile at the rather unfortunate knitwear his mother had so lovingly made for him, remembering the year she had finally decided that she had no talent as a knitter and resorted to buying all of his clothes. He looked on, searching for a specific picture. He found it wedged in between two pages where he had put it for lack of a better place. It was a photograph of the students in his year. His old school being relatively small, all eighty or so pupils in his year had been asked to pose together on the steps to the main entrance a week before the end of term. He looked and picked out himself, James, Peter, Sirius and a few others standing in the second row from the bottom easily enough. The faces being quite small, he had to search through a drawer in his old desk for a magnifying glass. He then decided that if he was to find Severus Snape, he would have to look methodically. Starting in the top right hand corner he inspected each face carefully. After a few minutes, impatient at not having found Severus Snape yet he rubbed his eyes. When he opened them again, he noticed something that made him shiver. There Snape was, on the photo, one row up from him, just to his right. Close enough to be touching him. Remus let out his breath.

'Well, this is what I came here to find...' he mused.

He put the picture back and took another look around his former room. It was cosy with its slanted ceiling on both sides and it's creaky floorboards. He had liked living here, but he was glad to be out now. His parents were lovely people, but he couldn't help thinking that they must have been the most ordinary family on earth and he felt a little irritated by it. Unlike James, Sirius and Peter whose remarkable and sometimes slightly mad families had shaped them each in their own way, he had always felt that his parents trusted him to be sensible, to make sensible decisions and therefore hadn't for a minute doubted that he would end up making them proud of him. The fact that he was an underpaid bachelor with a dead-end job was already a small revolution on his part. Closing the door he wondered how much of his time at school he had spent daydreaming of being someone special and if this had made him partially blind to others, though he had always thought himself perceptive and a connoisseur of the human mind and heart at the time. How could he possibly have overlooked someone like Severus Snape?

"Did you find it dear?" his mother asked him.

"Yes Mum." he answered.

"Those were the days, weren't they" she said, smiling at Remus' father. "It was lovely for you to have such good friends back then. Mrs. Kitchener told be that James and his wife Lydia-"

"Lily, Mum." Remus corrected.

"Of course, silly me. Well, according to her, their son is doing exceedingly well in preschool and is quite the little charmer. Have you seen them lately at all?" She asked. Remus inwardly rolled his eyes. Ever since James and Lily's rather sudden wedding five years ago, his mother had been hinting that he should find himself a nice young woman to start a family with too.

Though she had always been quite taken with Sirius' natural charm, she rather less approved of his career as a pilot. "Airplanes do crash every now and then you know... I can't think how his mother can stand it..." she would say. She approved of Peter's career as an insurance salesman even less.

"That boy was always too ingratiating. Still, I suppose if he's good at it he's done well to earn money with it... and he does earn well, doesn't he?" Favourite jibe number two.

As the conversation covered all of the usual topics, his mother drilling holes in him with her questions and his father nodding approvingly, Remus remembered why, though he loved them dearly, it was in his best interest to spend limited amounts of time with his parents. As he was leaving, his father accompanied him to the door. That days' letters were still lying face down on the ground in the hallway where they had been swept aside earlier that day to clear the path for an especially large houseplant that the Lupins had brought outside to re-pot. Remus' father picked up the letters and glanced at the return addresses of each one. Frowning at the sight of one and turned it over.

"Well how about that! Look son, this one's addressed to you. We haven't had mail for you here in years. Funny that it should have arrived today, with you visiting us and all." He clapped his hand on his son's shoulder and sent him off, giving a short wave and greeting, before closing the door.

On the front step, Remus was struggling between excitement and a growing sense of apprehension. Because, of course, the letter was from a certain Severus Snape in Hackney.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part V**

London, 1985-

After much debate with himself, Severus had resolved that it would be better to send a note to Remus' parents, seeing as he didn't want the fact that he knew exactly where Remus lived and what his habitual haunts were to scare him too much. On the day after their meeting at Chen's, the waiter and owner whose name, incidentally, wasn't Chen at all but Wesley Lai, had told Severus exactly how much he had enjoyed watching Remus squirm when he pretended that he hadn't seen Severus with him at the table. Because as a matter of fact, none of the muggles in the restaurant had. But Wesley Lai wasn't exactly a muggle.

"He actually insinuated that a lady friend had stood him up. I did my best to stop myselflaughing, imagining you as his lady friend." chuckled Lai. Then his face dropped.

"The stingy fellow could have at least ordered something. I hope you don't make a habit of bringing in poor customers Severus." he chided.

"By no means. Rest assured." Severus answered.

His connection with Lai was a complex one. After disgracing himself in Hong Kong's high society in the sixties, Lai had emigrated to England. Though he was exceedingly well educated and came from the best of families, no to mention enjoyed British citizenship, he had to face the fact that, his connections not stretching far enough to get him a job as a diplomat or government employee here in Britain, there weren't many interesting or well paid options available to him. Being the only squib in a very ancient family of potioneers in Hong Kong, he decided that what he couldn't openly sell as being magical would however be acceptable to local muggles under the label "Traditional Chinese Medicine" and only the local witches and wizards would know the real reason behind his medicine's effectiveness. So for several years, he and an older witch by the name of Prunella Bertram had set up and run a discreet yet highly lucrative business from her corner shop in the countryside outside London. Wesley would have preferred to operate by himself, but being a squib he had only his mother's collection of recipes and childhood memories of observing her at work to go on to try and reproduce his family's ancient art. Though Prunella was a competent brewer, there were a few obstacles to their unmitigated success. Certain ingredients being hard to come by in their fresh state in the United Kingdom, as well as the climate and stars being different, made the potions less effective than they were back in Hong Kong, though they still worked better that what most herbalists had on offer. As time went by, Prunella's health started to fail and it was decided that she should take up a young witch or wizard as a trainee. At the time, in the village, there weren't many youngsters, and as far as Prunella and Wesley could tell, none of them were wizards, so it was by complete chance that Severus had entered the picture.

London, 1978 -

One fine day, Prunella had been off to London to pick up a new pair of specially made support stockings when she caught Severus' attention. Back then he had been taken on as a shop assistant by an antiques' salesman. The pay was miserable, but it gave him somewhere to be during the summer holidays, and he was considering working there for a year in order to save up money to apply to the university of Southampton, something his father grudgingly approved of. He had been staring out the display window on a particularly slow morning, when something caught his eye: an older woman, no doubt thinking that the thick coat of dust and soot on the shop's front window would prevent those inside from seeing her, was facing towards it so as to shield what she was doing from the passers-by. She was trying to fit a flat, elongated parcel into her rather wide but shallow carpet bag.

'Try all you want, daft old bat.' Severus thought with a yawn, his head propped on his arm.

The woman reached into her bag and brought out something that looked somewhat like a conductor's baton made out of beautiful reddish wood.

"Cherrywood." Severus said to himself, still relatively uninterested but using the opportunity to practice recognising the type of wood.

The woman used the baton to tap the parcel, muttering something at the same time and Severus saw, his heart giving a jolt, that it shrank to a size that enabled her to fit it into her bag comfortably.

With a rush, Severus shot up from his seat and rushed out to catch up with the woman who was already heading off down the street.

"Excuse me Madam!" he said, using the polite tone he usually reserved for the shop's few regular customers.

The woman turned around and smiled kindly at him. Now that she was closer, Severus noticed that she had a lovely round face with rosy cheeks and laugh-lines around her eyes that crinkled in a wonderful way. She was also wearing a frilly dress that sported rather ugly print of what seemed to be a botanical illustration of various different types of turnip.

"Yes? What is it, Love?" she asked.

Severus was terribly excited. His cheeks flushed a strange yellowish pink and his eyes sparkled slightly feverishly. Placing his hand firmly on her shoulder he said:

"I saw you shrinking that parcel."

The woman blinked and answered:

"I haven't a clue what you are talking about. Now run along Love, I must get home in time to start cooking for supper."

With the gentlest of touches she pried off his hand and was about to leave when he, a desperate rasp in his lowered voice, said:

"Please! Could you teach me? I don't have a cherrywood stick, but I can do things like that as well!"

Turning, she eyed him up and down. Something in his animated and earnest gaze told her that this odd young wizard, for whatever reason, had apparently never heard of wands and, given his age, clearly not been educated at Hogwarts. Feeling a sudden surge of pity, she opened her bag. Pulling out a small notepad and quill, which to Severus' amazement didn't seem to need ink, she scribbled down an address in spidery cursive.

"There you are. Do come and visit me at my shop. It's not very busy and you may come any time you like during opening hours. Now, Love, if you'll excuse me, I still have that supper to attend to."

With a smile and a pat on the shoulder, she was off. But Severus, gripping the note in his hand, knew that he had just met his first witch aside from his mother. That night, he hardly slept and, feigning illness the next morning when he came in to work (which wasn't hard since he seemed to be burning, so anxious was he to learn about magic,) his employer, a notorious hypochondriac, told him to stay home for the rest of the week.

And so it was that over the next five years, Severus found out about the larger wizarding world and discovered his mother's duplicity at having received his summons to Hogwarts and informed the school that he would not be attending. As his guardian, she had every right to do so, and so it was that he had never known what he was missing because of his mother's decision to live as a muggle. Prunella, a patient and very conscientious teacher, had done her best to instruct him in basic magic and she soon found, as if he were the answer to her and Wesley's prayers, that he not only showed considerable talent at brewing potions, but also a certain flair for figuring out which local ingredients worked best as substitutes for their originals from the Far East.

But Prunella did worry about Severus. Especially about his bitterness towards his mother. No more than a week after the beginning of his lessons with her he announced that he could no longer bear to live in his home with his mother. He had no intention of telling her that he was learning magic, and therefore he had to endure his anger at finding out all she had kept from him. To do otherwise would have alerted her suspicions and by now he new that her suspicions more often that not became his father's suspicions, which tended to be resolved in a violent manner. So it came about that Prunella decided to introduce Severus to Wesley.

Over the years, Severus had taken over as main potion brewer and when Prunella unfortunately died by tripping over her cat and tumbling down the stairs, they were forced to accept that her niece was to run her small shop, depriving them of their main sales-point. It was Severus who had come up with the suggestion that Wesley open a Chinese restaurant. By day, the kitchens would be used for food preparation and by night, they would be used to prepare potions in larger amounts than ever before. The sizeable nest-egg that Wesley had saved up over years of ever improving sales would enable this easily and by renting premises in a more central location they would increase their numbers in due course.

Once Chen's did finally open, Wesley found that he rather enjoyed working in the service industry. He was an abysmal potioneer, but he did know how to cook, and his refined manners soon earned him a reputation as an agreeable businessman among gourmets and pharmacists alike. Severus, on the other hand, only had interest for potions, but he was starting to feel that he had learned as much as he could and was itching to further his magical education. At the same time, his deep-seated wish for acceptance in the muggle world put up a fight. Indeed, he knew, that however strange muggles might find him was nothing compared to the endless questions he would have to face if he entered wizarding society, starting with how he could possibly be a proper wizard without his own wand.

For learning purposes, Prunella had let him use hers, and now that she didn't need it, Merlin keep her gentle soul, he was free to use it as he wished, but it didn't _feel_ quite right. He couldn't, never the less, face the idea of marching into a wand shop (though he had an address for a certain _Ollivander's_ ) and requesting one, though he also had inherited enough wizarding money from Prunella to be able to afford one. Wesley, no doubt bitter about never having a wand of his own, being a squib, had enhanced Severus' fear of being seen as positively abnormal and pitiful by wizarding standards.

London, 1985 -

So here Severus sat, listening to Wesley chuckle about Remus' bemused expression, wondering how to turn things to his advantage, had decided to write to him. It seemed neutral enough. Certainly more neutral than most of his recent actions. Picking up one of the restaurants' business cards, he flipped it over and wrote:

"This is where you can find me. Yours, etc., SS".

 _A/N: Well now, I've been writing this mainly because I want to know what happens, myself. So it's fair to say that it's writing itself, I guess... I hope you like it. I'm discovering similarities with my other story, Lovex, which puzzle me. If anyone happens to have read it, please tell me whether you see them too. I'd be curious to know... I wonder what they say about me. ^_^`` (scratches head)._


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Hello again. Here's the next instalment. I'd like to answer a few questions from the lovely Mandarrin (thanks for your and "Guest's" comments and reviews: they mean a lot to me!). Severus isn't an obscurus. I wasn't aware of what those were when I started writing and now that I know, I still don't think so: he hasn't had to stifle his magic, only keep it discreet. He just didn't receive any particular guidance until he met Prunella. Also: the marauders are muggles. There's no big plot twist behind that, just random AU. I'm not that smart *scratches head and looks apologetic*. On with the show!_

 **Part VI**

London, 1985-

It was several days after his visit to his parents' that Remus and Sirius made their way to Chen's. After ringing up Sirius, Peter and James, the three friends had tried to find a date that would suit them all, a task made immensely difficult by Sirius' career as a pilot. In the end they had agreed to have a reunion between Christmas and New Year's, during the so called "Dead Days". In the meantime, Sirius had suggested that he and Remus meet during his next rest in London, just the two of them, for old time's sake. Remus had then decided that instead of waiting for the four of them to be together to ask questions about the mysterious bleeding Snape. They, apparently unbeknownst to him, had been bitter enemies with during their schooldays. Remus decided to invite Sirius to lunch at Chen's, without informing him of the reason behind his sudden enthusiasm for oriental cuisine. He had two theories: Sirius would either see Snape and recognise him as his past victim or nemesis, Remus couldn't tell, or not recognise him, indicating that his memory had been affected similarly to his own.

The two men stepped through the door and were met by the same waiter who had been present on Remus' last visit. He greeted them with a courteous half-bow and when he straightened up Remus noticed an amused glint in his eye.

"Table for two? Follow me Sirs."

Remus and Sirius, who was clearly impressed by the waiter's good form, were led to the same table at the back of the restaurant where Remus had been seated the last time. He was certain that the glint in the waiter's eyes had been one of recognition and, he supposed, the memory of Remus' made-up excuse for leaving so quickly. The waiter, Wesley Lai of course, beckoned to a young waitress and murmured something in her ear. She shuffled off hurriedly and Wesley disappeared only to come back with three glasses of Cinzano over ice.

"Some refreshments, courtesy of the Third Party who will be joining you presently." Wesley Lai said, handing them the drinks and the menus. Sirius looked at Remus who nodded uncomfortably.

"Thank you." he said hurriedly and a little too loudly, hoping the waiter would leave before Sirius could correct him. Sirius was about to open his mouth when, much to Wesley Lai's pleasure, nodding at his menu Remus added:

"What would you recommend?"

Wesley Lai proceeded to describe various dim sum, dishes and side dishes. With relief Remus saw that Sirius was now completely absorbed in figuring out how to politely express that the idea of eating chicken feet affected his stomach in a way that not even the worst turbulences on a plane could. Undeterred, Wesley Lai went on to gleefully urge them to sample the pig's ears, waxing lyrical about the wonderful aroma that was the result of years of cooking expertise and the finest blend of spices, seemingly delighted by Sirius' ever more concerned expression. Remus' attention was caught by the re-entry of the waitress from behind the heavy brocade curtain at the back of the hallway, followed by Severs Snape. As he emerged, Remus watched his face carefully, looking for the smallest reaction on his part at seeing Sirius sitting at the table. He also noticed that Snape looked a little rough, as though he just been woken and had possibly been wearing the same change of clothes for several days. His lank hair had the distinctive lack of motion towards the roots that signalled that is hadn't been washed recently and his sallow face sported a three-day shadow, instantly ageing him by a few years.

As he came up to them, Snape extended his hand towards Sirius without making eye-contact with Remus, who was rather astonished. The man wore an expression which was probably meant to express confidence but, unfortunately, gave the impression of a smug bitterness instead.

"Hello Black. It's been a long time." Snape said, clearly wanting to make a good impression.

Sirius gave a little jump in his chair and stood up, glad for an excuse to stop having to convince Wesley Lai that he really wasn't interested in sampling soybean curd in any form.

"My word! Snape! er... Hello." Sirius finished lamely, turning to Remus.

"Hello Lupin. You didn't tell me that you were planning a reunion." Snape said, grasping Remus' hand as if they were good friends who met frequently.

Remus, utterly dumbfounded by Snape's tone of voice and demeanour which suggested amusement at a good joke, noticed that the hand momentarily gripping his was clammy. Not trusting himself to say anything he merely shrugged and smiled at Snape and Sirius. Snape motioned for Sirius to sit back down, pulled up a chair from a neighbouring table, drained his glass of Cinzano and asked Wesley to bring an assortment of dim sum to share before turning back to the other two who had been silently trying to communicate their bewilderment to each other without attracting his attention. For lack of anything better to do, Remus reached for his Cinzano and took a sip. The artichoke flavour was rather revolting and out of the corner of his eye he saw Sirius forcefully gulp down his own. Having swallowed, he said:

"So, Snape, how are you?" Sirius asked for lack of anything better to say.

"Well, thank you. Yourself?" Snape answered, visibly wanting to appear courteous while it was obvious that Sirius was the last person whose health and doings he cared about.

"Fine, thanks." Sirius answered, a similar expression of badly hidden dislike coming over his handsome features.

"Sirius is a pilot with British Airways" Remus said, desperate to avoid an awkward silence which threatened to leave room for even more awkward questions which he most dearly wished to avoid. He was, however reassured: Sirius would, after a thorough cross-examination of his reasons for bringing him to meet someone he obviously did not want to see, be able to tell him more about Snape's and their time at school together.

"Congratulations. How very elite." Snape said, his mouth curling slightly at the corners as he said the last word.

"What about you then?" Sirius asked, his voice a little louder than necessary, which suggested a hint of anger at some jibe Remus didn't quite understand.

"Oh, this and that. Among other things I have had the good fortune of becoming co-proprietor of this establishment." Snape said, nodding at the restaurant.

Despite himself, Sirius looked impressed. Remus now noticed that the restaurant was decorated lavishly and very tastefully with dark silks and silk brocades, sculpted wood and lacquered furniture. With the exception of a few oddly dressed diners, the clientele seemed to be made up largely of connoisseurs and business people. The sizeable oriental rug underfoot alone must have been worth a fortune.

"Are you now?" Sirius said. "You must have good connections then." he added.

"I've found that good work ethics and excellence in my field have served me well enough without the kind of connections others might find necessary." Snape answered.

Remus was growing more and more concerned that bringing Sirius here had, after all, not been such a good idea. The conversation, though polite on the surface, was beginning to feel more like a power struggle. Thankfully it was interrupted by the arrival of the dim sum. An array of fragrant and beautifully shaped small delicacies was laid out in front of them. Without batting an eyelash, Snape picked up his chopsticks and began fishing out his favourites from the assortment. He ate silently and with relish. After a few seconds, noticing Remus' embarrassment at his failed attempts to seize a shumai with his chopsticks, Snape motioned to the waitress, who brought a thankful Remus a fork, Sirius having decided to use his hands and a serving spoon from one of the platters.

"And how are you, Lupin?" Snape began "Have you recovered?" he added.

"You didn't tell me you'd been ill." Sirius said.

"Ah, yes, when Snape and I last met I... had one of my headaches." Remus finished.

"Oh, right. I thought you had stopped having them." Sirius answered.

Remus shrugged. He did not much like the heavy atmosphere nor the fact that he was being made into an accomplice of sorts. He had just lied to Sirius on behalf of this almost stranger and he couldn't think of a way to ask any further questions without letting on that he didn't know exactly what Sirius and Sanpe's relationship had been at school. It obviously hadn't been good, but he had no idea why, other than Miss McGonagall's mentioning fights.

"I know a good acupuncturist. I'll give you his address." Snape said matter-of-factly.

"Acu... sorry?" Remus asked.

"A man who'll stick needles in you" Sirius said, scowling.

"Oh." Remus answered.

After a while, when the plates were almost empty, Sirius, who had grudgingly had to admit to Wesley Lai that all the food, steamed bean-curd, batter-fried chicken feet and pig's ear dumplings included was delicious, couldn't help but say:

"If you don't mind my asking, Remus, how did you two meet again? You've both said nothing and frankly I don't know what I'm doing here."

"Well, Black. It's quite simple. I ran into Lupin at a pub and we met again shortly thereafter when he came to this restaurant. As to why you're here, I'll admit it's a mystery to me too. No doubt Lupin thought you would enjoy seeing that I've made something of myself, despite your efforts in school." Snape said coolly answering for Remus.

Sirius stood up, angry.

"Listen, Snape, you may have a good bank balance now, but as far as I can see you're still the same arrogant git you always were. I don't know why Remus has an interest in prolonging your acquaintance but I've had enough."

Fishing out his wallet, he slammed a handful of notes on the table and spat:

"Keep the change."

"Suit yourself, Black." Snape said with a grin, trying not to look too pleased at having succeeded in making Sirius lose his temper.

Feeling mortified, Remus stood up, added a few (unnecessary) banknotes to the ones on the table.

"I apologise." he said, more to Wesley Lai who had come over to enquire if everything was in order, and shot a confused look at Snape.

"See you soon, Lupin." Snape answered, reaching across the table to pick up the last dumpling.

As Remus rushed out after Sirius he couldn't help but wonder why Snape's last comment had made Sirius lose his composure. The only explanation he could think of was that Sirius had done something to Snape that he was ashamed of. Sirius had many qualities and talents. Apologising, however, did not come to him easily.

Out on the street Remus had to jog to catch up with Sirius who rounded on him:

"Honestly Remus, I know you've always been a pacifist but was that necessary?" he finished, almost pleadingly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd take it that way." Remus said, wondering how he would get Sirius to give him more details about whatever he was talking about.

"I did write him a letter you know. After his dad beat him. I thought I'd told you." Sirius said.

"Oh" Remus said. Then glimpsing his chance at an explanation. "What did you say? In the letter I mean?"

"I said I apologised for telling his father that James had punched him because he caught him looking through the window of the girls' changing rooms. I don't know why I made that up. I suppose I was just glad that old Snapey had got the punch that he had had coming at him for so long and I didn't want James to get in trouble for it when the headmaster called us in. How was I to know that his Neanderthal of a father would beat him within an inch of his life?" Sirius said.

Dimly, as if in a dream, Remus now remembered about the incident. Ever since his first epiphany of Snape's existence, snippets would come back to him. Memories that had been there all along of incidents that had happened without him being there and that had always involved some person or other he didn't know. Now he had a face to fill in the gaps. The student who had missed a month of school because he had been in hospital was Snape. The person who had the unfortunate habit of always coming up for a nasty remark about Sirius' family of toffs, whose eyes burned with glaring envy whenever James, Sirius or Peter talked about holidays their family had been on or earned admiration from girls for a witty remark that went unpunished by a disliked teacher, was Snape.

"You know, I never understood how you managed it. The way he would follow you around when you were alone must have been unbearable. He knew exactly which buttons to push with James and me and I suppose he didn't envy Peter. But you managed to make it seem as if he wasn't there. And he never changed his tactic... " Sirius said.

"Maybe he was intimidated by the pacifist in me." Remus joked, trying to deflect having to answer that question. "I'm sorry Sirius. So much time has gone by that I didn't remember how much you disliked each other. In fact I didn't remember much about the fellow at all..."

"So you didn't arrange for me to be there to apologise?" Sirius asked.

"No, not really." Remus answered.

"Oh bugger. I've made a fool of myself, haven't I?" Sirius said.

"Make a fool of yourself? You? Never!" Remus grinned.

As their conversation went on they strolled through the streets, finally arriving at the Thames. The clear view of the river seemed to also clear the mood between them and they agreed to meet again during Sirius' next home break in November. As they parted, Sirius glanced at Remus before saying:

"Look, mind yourself around Snape, yeah? His account of meeting you twice 'by chance' seems a bit off, especially considering that he used to follow you around though you never paid him any attention."

"I'll bear that in mind" Remus said, inwardly cringing at the thought of how much more worried Sirius would be if he knew about the strange illusionist's tricks or whatever it was Snape had performed. Grinning, he raised a hand and waved Sirius off. Only to retrace their steps right back to Chen's.


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: Same as usual: I don't own the characters or world and I write this just for fun!_

 _A/N: Here's the next (rather short) part. Thank you so very much to those of you who are keeping up with this and especially to those who review! Your feedback is always appreciated! -Isa_

 **Part VII**

London, 1985-

Meanwhile Severus sat at the desk in the back room at the restaurant. He was certain that Remus would be back. Earlier, when Hua had woken him from his sleeping place on the old velvet sofa where he had passed out in the earliest hours of the day, he had been rather surprised that she announced there were two visitors for him. The fact that one turned out to be Black was a less than ideal start to his day.

If Remus was everything that Severus had yearned to be as a teenager -smart, calm, generally well-liked and respected- Black had everything he wanted: looks, lineage and money. As he had stepped out to greet them he had thought that he could be the good host and act as though the years-worth of envy were behind him. But the fact was that every fibre of his body still stung with the recognition that no matter how well he succeeded in his endeavours, he would never possess Black's natural poise and ease. It galled him. It didn't even help that, going by his reaction, Black still thought he was responsible for he worst beating his father had given him. At the time, when he had received the apology letter, the coincidence had pleased him and he had rather enjoyed the thought that Black felt guilty.

The truth was that the very same evening they had been summoned by the headmaster, Tobias had caught Severus magically regrowing a dead geranium in the back garden. Eileen had happened to be out. With no one to restrain him, Tobias had told his son that he would give him such a thrashing the magic would be beaten right out of him as well as teach him a lesson about what peeping toms deserved. In truth though, if it hadn't been for the magic, Tobias, often guilty in his own schooldays of the same crime as his son was accused of, wouldn't have done much more than shout at the boy. In fact he had been rather reassured to find out that his weakling, room-dwelling, bookish, sallow-skinned beanstalk of a son had a healthy interest in girls.

"Hem hem" Severus heard.

"Come in Lupin." he said, turning in his chair and motioning for Remus to sit down on the sofa.

"The waiter just let me come in." Remus offered.

"The waiter", Severus said, arching his eyebrow "happens to be the other co-proprietor of this place."

"Oh." Remus answered, not certain what this piece of information implied.

"So. Here you are." Severus said. "I assume you have questions." he continued. Remus nodded, not sure where to start. Sensing that the other man would not be able to ask anything without prompting, Severus picked up a satsuma from a shallow porcelain dish on the desk, reached for Remus' hand, flattened it out into an open palm and placed it there. He opened the top drawer of the desk and took out Prunella's wand. Pointing it a the citrus fruit he pictured what he wanted to happen in his minds eye.

"G _lubo!"_ he said.

Remus almost flung the satsuma in the air as soon as he saw it peeling itself right there in his hand without any action on his part.

"How did you do that!?" He shouted at Severus, who grinned.

"It's a talent of mine." he said. "I can make all sorts f things happen. The only real effort on my part was to brush up on my latin." he said offhandedly, trying to not sound too smug.

Remus stood watching in utmost fascination. Once the fruit had shed all of its peel, he picked up a segment and ate it.

"This is real." he said.

"Yes." Severus answered, stepping closer. Remus instinctively backed away.

"Don't be afraid." Severus said. "The reason I've shown you this is because you were my first magical human experiment."

Remus' jaw dropped. This was an explanation that had crossed his mind, but he had always laughed it off. Yet the evidence in front of his eyes and all the open questions seemed to confirm what Severus was saying.

"So that's a magic wand?" Remus asked, gingerly picking up the wooden stick.

"Exactly." Severus answered.

"And what was it? _Glubo!"_ Remus said, pointing at the dish of remaining satsumas. Nothing happened.

"It doesn't work with everyone." Severus answered. But Remus suddenly pointed the wand at him and repeated the incantation. To Severus' horror he found his shirt and trousers starting to peel off his body and did what he could to keep them from doing so. To no avail. In a matter of seconds he stood there, regretting his relatively recent bad habit of not bothering with underwear when he forgot to sign up on the weekly roster for the communal muggle washing machine in his building. He was dumbfounded. He stared at Remus until he saw the other man look pointedly away. Suddenly scrabbling to put his clothes back on he asked:

"What did you do differently?"

"I didn't mean to, only it struck me that it would be very amusing if it worked on humans as well." Remus said, feeling dizzy and letting himself fall on the sofa. Severus didn't bother to express how glad he was that the spell had focused on his clothes and not his hair or his skin as the element to peel off.

"Interesting." He said, surveying Remus carefully. "And nothing like this has ever happened before?"

"I don't know." Remus answered.

"Nothing? Not even when you were a child?" Severus asked, coming to sit next to Remus on the sofa and grabbing his upper arm.

"No!" Remus said somewhat alarmed. Then he paused. "I was bitten by a dog with rabies as a child." he said. Severus groaned.

"No, wait!" he said. "I was very little and it didn't break the skin. But my parents' neighbour took me to this place. It was like a hospital, but there were moving paintings in the hallways. When I told my parents about it they said that I must've had strange dreams while I had a high fever in hospital." His eyes grew wide. "And I remember people waving sticks like that one!" he exclaimed, pointing at the cherry wood wand he had put back on the desk after magically stripping Severus. He looked at the black-haired man. "The doctors told me I had had childhood epilepsy."

"Right, and you had headaches every month at school. I remember that!" Severus said excitedly. Remus gave him a wide-eyed look.

"In case you haven't remembered everything: I used to follow you around. I'm sure Black told you all about it on your way out. I know about those headaches." Severus said.

"How?" Remus asked, incredulously. The question seemed to embarrass Severus so he added "Oh, right, I was your human experiment..." wishing very hard for that not to be the answer. His heart sank a little when the other man nodded. "Great."

"Do you still have the headaches?" Severus asked.

"Not as badly as before." Remus answered.

"Here, let me give you something for them..." Severus said, turning to a lacquered and painted cabinet with many small drawers labelled in Chinese. Pulling out a small vial he handed it to a very reluctant Remus. "From my acupuncturist." he said, hoping the little lie would convince Remus to accept the sample of his new experimental batch of pain-relief potion. Remus accepted the tiny bottle but his posture indicated that he had half a mind to "forget" it on the desk on his way out when he left.

"So..." Severus said.

"So... what?" Remus parroted, unhelpfully.

"So... that's all you know?" Severus asked hopefully.

"About what?" Remus asked, puzzled.

Severus' shoulders fell. Here he had been, hoping that his former schoolmate would have some kind of information he didn't, but that clearly wasn't the case. So what was the solution to this problem? He could tell that this man wasn't a natural wizard, or at least hadn't shown signs of being one up to now, but he clearly had been in contact with magic and did have some capacity for doing it. He would need to ask Wesle Lai his opinion, since he was his only trusted contact in the wizarding world, now that Prunella most probably growing dirigeable plums in heaven. But lately Wesley had given him the feeling of wanting to keep him in the dark so as to retain him as his potion brewer. And this made Severus doubt that he would answer his enquiries fully. His best, in fact his only plausible option, was to go to the wandmaker. And that meant finding his way into a place he had dreamed about visiting for a long time: Diagon Alley.


End file.
